All That Matters
by Atthla
Summary: A place between a master and her servant. KuroTomo.


**All That Matters**  
**Author: Atthla**

**Pairing: **Kurogane x Tomoyo

**Warning: **None. A few spoilers maybe, but they're rather negligible.

**Disclaimer:** CLAMP owns all.

**Timeline:** I think this happens after everything which happens Tsubasa. While we don't know yet how it will end, let's just pretend and go with the story, shall we?

**Summary: **A place between a master and her servant. KuroTomo.

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It was the silence.

Tomoyo sighed quietly and let her hand fall from the window sill to her lap. She generally found silence enjoyable, if only for the reason that it usually heralded the advent of the night and that peace had persevered for another day. It meant a lot in a country as chaotic as Nihon. Too few had the days seen not a drop of blood, or taken not a life, those dear to her country and her people. Night was like a mother who embraced them all with her unconditional tranquility – a blanket of protection, however frail or transient.

It was not to say that night did not have its dangers. She knew well of its threats, the dark opportunities shadows offered to those who meant harm to others. She had been the target of some of those malicious intents herself, far too often for her to remain ignorant of the dangers, but silence, as it was, continued to be something she allowed herself to indulge in.

This silence was different. It filled her with dread, tendrils of fear coiling around her fingers, cutting into her skin. The castle was no longer thrumming with life, the absence of its mistress more marked than ever as snow fell quietly to the ground, draping the white shroud of death across everything that was mortal. It drove her crazy.

"Tomoyo?"

Like he did.

The princess slowly tore her gaze from the drizzle of snowflakes outside and looked at the man kneeling before her, her voice easily gliding over the silence. "Yes, Kurogane?"

"The men are ready, I must leave as soon as possible," he said, impatience rumbling low in the air, shattering the silence to pieces. He was never a patient man, Tomoyo reflected with a sigh. Always ready to charge into battles, to protect those he had chosen to protect, to defend his personal sense of justice.

And she was a stubborn woman. Never a good pair, they were.

"Don't you think tonight is beautiful?" she said tranquilly, her eyes already shifting toward the window again. The snow remained a slow drizzle in the castle ground and she almost frowned at the sight. She usually liked snow. What was it about tonight that made it different?

"_Beautiful_?" The word left Kurogane's mouth like a curse, and she didn't need to look at him to see the emotions spattered on his face – astonishment, disapproval, sharp spikes of anger, sparks of incredulity. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's a full moon," she answered softly and raised her hand to watch the pale glimmer of light slip and slide between her fingers. "I love full moons."

It was an old game. Patience was his weakness and she took delight in shredding it to pieces, often with something as small as words of no importance. He would explode and she would smile pleasantly, all innocence and amiability, and somehow, it was the balance of their world. The only balance she knew how to maintain.

"Your sister is waiting at the frontline," his reply was sharp, a sign of an impending storm, "and I have a kingdom to protect. Do you think you can skip the small talk and just get on with it?"

It was only then when she turned to look at him again. "You have protected that kingdom," she told him, a hint of firmness in her voice. "Many times. Over and over again."

"And I will continue protecting Nihon," he declared and the determination in his eyes made her heart clench painfully. "And you."

Tomoyo felt a smile touch her lips. "Why, Kurogane, I'm very flattered."

"Like you don't know that," he growled, red eyes glaring in the dark veil of the night. She could sense his embarrassment, but the light was too dim for her to make sure of anything. Pity. She was almost certain that the line had served its purpose – which was to make him bristle or blush, either a chief source of her entertainment regardless of the circumstances.

_But the war_, Tomoyo reminded herself and closed her eyes, escaping from the wave of helplessness which was threatening to rise and swallow her. The ever-so-despicable war. The never-ending war. Her homeland had suffered from its malice for as long as history could remember, ravaged by its hatred, its eternal chain of killing-or-be-killed. She was just another soul – _they _were just another soul – caught in the whirlwind of destruction as Fate slowly weaved her grotesque, blood-stained tapestry with the blood and tears of fallen warriors and priestesses.

Life, she discovered, went on.

"I will only allow you to go under one condition," the princess heard herself murmuring.

"What?" he barked, the rough inflection of his voice scratching the surface of the silence like a jagged knife. It should have cut her, Tomoyo thought silently, and then perhaps she wouldn't feel so numb.

"You have to promise…"

_…that you will come back safely._

"…that you will bring back the snowdrop flower for me," she finished, her voice almost flat at the end.

Another silence occurred, and then he deadpanned, "The snowdrop flower."

"Yes," Tomoyo realized that she was smiling placidly, an utter contrast to the shrill, hysterical voice echoing in the back of her mind, laughing at her defeat –_ cowardice_. "The snowdrop flower. And I will be very happy if you can find more than one for me."

"I don't have time for your jokes." Anger had resurfaced – everywhere, not only on his strained countenance.

"Jokes are when I ask you to bring me the severed limbs of your enemy, Kurogane," she told him calmly. "This is perfectly serious."

"The enemy is drawing near to our border by the minute," he retorted and it was clear to anyone who cared to listen that he was fighting against his all instincts not to strangle her, "and you ask me to bring you a damn _flower_?"

"You have no sense of humor at all," Tomoyo said with a sigh, surprising even herself with this unperturbed charade she still managed to continue.

"It's a total waste of time. Like yours."

"It will make you live longer," she reasoned but her voice was weak. Something in that sentence grazed the truth a little – _a little_, but also much too close than what she was comfortable with. Of course she wanted Kurogane to live longer – these things went without saying.

Why did it suddenly matter tonight?

"You said the men were ready?" Tomoyo turned her attention to the kneeling ninja, running away from her own question.

"Yes."

"Then we should make haste," she rose to her feet and stood in front of him, looking down to his tempestuous eyes. Eyes of a warrior in the eve of battle. Eyes to be feared, to be respected, to be worried of because they were the eyes of a man ready to die for an honourable cause. She might have teased him about it every now and then, but she knew better than to laugh or make fun of it. Principles had killed more valiant men and women than any other cause. They were something worth dying for.

How pitiful of her to deprive him of his chance to defend his principles. Even a master had no right to do that. And a master was all she would ever be to him. Someone to serve. Someone to pledge loyalty to. Someone to protect. Someone to die for.

But not someone to love.

She closed her eyes, quelling the pain which had suddenly erupted in her chest. Again, this was unusual. She was not usually bothered by this, as it should be for one in her position. It wasn't about weakness or propriety or anything else equally mundane. It was just something that was not. None. Never.

Lifting her hands to rest against her breast, fingers forming a pyramid against each other, she began the ceremony. It was a brief and simple one, from a master to her servant in order to bestow blessing and protection, as tradition had continued to withstand through the ages. A matter of formality, but it was always personal for her – it had to be, if the one thing she was guarding her subjects against was death itself.

"My brave and faithful servant," she spoke quietly, "the oaths you have taken, fulfill them all and go with my blessing."

A circle of light materialized around her fingers, bathing the room in a pale, mellow glow, and then dispersed into thousands of golden threads. Gliding across the expanse between them, the thin wisps wound themselves around him, disappearing at the first contact with his skin, followed by another, and then another. She watched as light and shadow danced across his face, eyes reverently closed, and couldn't help but wish that she could give him something more, something that wouldn't disappear with the slightest gust of air.

Tomoyo frowned as the last glowing thread dissolved against the darkness. Those were forbidden thoughts, she reproached herself. What good was a protection spell if the caster had no faith in it herself?

Kurogane rose to his feet, the dark fire in his eyes making her shiver, and she couldn't hold back saying, "I know you will succeed."

"Of course," he snorted and turned toward the door, his heavy footsteps an ominous tandem to her heartbeat. She stood silently, her eyes already watching the slow descent of snow outside once more. It was always the hardest part of being 'Tsukuyomi', letting the people she loved ride to war and face the enemy head on while she stayed behind, carrying out her duty to guard the _kekkai._ Someone had to do it for the sake of their country and it was not as if she could be of much use in a real battlefield, but sometimes Tomoyo wished that she could do something more for those she loved. Her sister. Him. Her people.

"This snowdrop," Kurogane's voice suddenly echoed in the deathly silent chamber, pulling her away from the mourning side of loneliness, and she realized that he had stopped at the threshold, glancing back at her over his shoulder, "what kind of flower is it?"

There was a brief moment of silence before the princess could answer. "A small one," she said, a faint tremor in her voice she couldn't quite cover. "White, blooming in a field of snow." A pause, fingers curling on her dark kimono. "Beautiful."

"All flowers are beautiful to you women," the comment was uttered callously, followed by an unsympathetic huff, and before she could find an appropriate response, he was already gone.

The emptiness of his departure almost overwhelmed her. It had probably been hours before she fell back to her seat, hands powerless on her side, eyes all but seeing in the frozen darkness. Time dragged on, painted by memory long since buried but not forgotten. She hadn't forgotten, not the moment when he had returned from this journey she had sent him to. The first time, he had lost an arm. The second time, he had lost much more than that.

A friend. And he had come back to her a complete mess. Angry. Miserable. Broken. Barely, _barely_ alive.

Her intake of breath was sharp and shaky as she shook herself out of the grasp of those harrowing memories. Death wasn't something she was unfamiliar with. Unpredictable. Merciless. Omnipotent. Like so many others, Kurogane was only another mortal. She thought of those times she had spent in his company, teasing him, taking delight in watching him boil in anger – or even better, embarrassment – as he continued to protect her and she him. A complete circle of balance, but it would only take Death one flick of its finger and what was left between them would only be chances left untaken and endless regrets.

And suddenly she was already on her feet, running across empty halls and murky corridors lit by flickering torches, the sound of her footfalls eclipsed by her thundering heartbeat. The cold night air whipped across her face, biting her cheeks ad burning her lungs, but she could only think of him and these unspoken words she had withheld too long.

It was in the snow-covered castle ground where she finally found him, in the middle of his final preparation. He looked surprised to see her, as well as his soldiers, but Tomoyo could hardly spare her attention on matters like appearances or decency as she clutched to her chest, her eyes only seeing him.

"Promise me that you'll come back safely," she whispered, her voice faint amidst gasping breaths and thick curtains of desperation.

_ To me._

"To me."

There wasn't an emotion on his stony face for a long moment, but when those rigid lines around his mouth dissolved into the slightest of smiles, Tomoyo thought that she had never seen anything so beautiful.

"I will," he muttered, awkwardness and sincerity blending in his voice. "I must bring you the flower anyway."

"I shall be waiting," she replied, a smile on her slightly trembling lips – a mockery of better laughs in better times. But for the moment it was enough, and she stood there, alone yet unwavering, as he passed through the castle gate to greet the red dawn.

**_End_**


End file.
